Would You Still Be There
by Mattycollns13
Summary: Sequel to Strange Comfort. Becky was maybe a tad worried now. Dean had said that championships change people. The worry morphed into self doubt, and that led her to lunch by herself.


It was a usual Tuesday for Becky. Well, other than the headache from Nattie blindsiding her last night on RAW, but she'd live. She sat on her own in catering waiting for the Smackdown taping to start. She'd gotten a salad and was really beginning to regret her choice. She knew it kept her healthy, but God, at what cost?

It had been an interesting few days in Vegas. She had been staying at Dean's apartment, which was an adventure, but since he was rarely there it was only partially disgustingly dirty. She had still been devastated from Natalya's betrayal, but her best friend had just earned the greatest title for male wrestlers in the world. She could put it aside for one night and celebrate. But instead of going out last night like she had insisted they do, Dean had made them go home and watch movies. He said it was what he wanted no matter how much she convinced him she was fine enough to go out and celebrate his title win.

It had been a good night, her bad mood quickly disappearing after the fifth beer. Dean had insisted they watch a funny movie to cheer her up and she'd agreed after seeing he had some good ones on DVD at his place. It hadn't really felt nice when they woke up the next morning, but now her sadness had given away to rage, which according to Dean was way more productive in the healing process. She didn't care if it was something about her that people just assumed she could be betrayed like that, she'd break Nattie's arm and send her home to her stupid cat crying and feel better about herself. She frowned at herself; that had sounded a bit too much like Dean.

After Natalya's attack from behind on RAW, Becky was even more sure she wanted to put her former friend in the hospital. Maybe she could have Total Divas come and film that. Dean had joked with her last night saying she should use his move Dirty Deeds, and she was actually considering it. She felt herself getting a bit worked up now, and threw her fork into her salad. She couldn't eat this bland box full of leaves.

"That looks disgusting." She looked up to see Dean staring down at her with a take out bag from some local fast food chain. She tore it from his hands immediately and dug in. God, she loved French fries.

She heard him chuckle and trained her eyes back on him. "I didn't expect to see you today." Her eyes flickered to the championship and back to his face. He apparently didn't catch it and sat down across from her, digging out a burger in the process.

"We have lunch like every day that we work, Irish. I figured you'd assume." She shrugged and made a grossed out face as he took an obscenely large bite of his burger and got sauce all along his mouth.

"Well, I know the champ has duties and stuff, I figured you might be too busy now." She said this as airily as she could, but Dean caught her eyes flickering down and sat straighter.

"Irish, I'm always gonna make time."

She didn't like to admit it, but a small part of her had seen how Roman had had less time for Dean, and when push came to shove with The Club, Roman didn't even return his calls offering to ignore Jericho and help. Now, she was slightly thankful for that, because she loved The Club. AJ, Karl, and Luke had been so nice to her ever since Finn had introduced them. So, not having to sit and watch her best friend fight her other friends was a blessing. But she was terrified now that Dean had a title that it would happen between them.

She remembered him saying that titles change people back when they first met over Paige's betrayal, and now she was afraid that would prove true for her friend as well. It had eaten away at her after Monday Night RAW and so she didn't even bother texting him to remind him that they usually had lunch. Might as well lessen the blow now.

He must have seen the unsure look on her face, "Look, I know I'll probably have to go get dolled up for photo shoots, but I gotta have you come along or I'll be bored to tears. Unless you have other stuff planned you're always invited." He smirked at her, "And since when do I actually go and do all my responsibilities?"

She felt a smile tug at her lips, "Yeah, fair point."

He raised an eyebrow at her, "Don't agree too quickly or anything."

She smirked at his sarcastic tone and popped two more fries in her mouth. He rolled his eyes at her but picked up his burger again. They ate in comfortable silence for a bit, her fears allayed and replaced with a fear for even more photo shoots. The boys didn't know how good they had it sometimes. Give her a hundred matches in a row, before another bakini beach photo shoot. He paused to take a long drink of his soda before he spoke up again.

"Your head okay? Nattie looked like she got you pretty bad."

She rolled her eyes, but smiled at him, "Dean, I'm fine. It's just a little bump. I'm tough."

He held up his hands in surrender, "Won't hear any arguments from me, I'm just a concerned friend."

"I have a question of my own." She leaned forward so she could look through his messy bangs at his steel blue eyes. "Why did you lie?"

He frowned, "I didn't lie to you that I can recall, Irish. You must be slipping."

She smirked, "I didn't say it was to me. Why did you lie on RAW to everyone? Why did you tell everyone that you went to parties and couldn't remember half the night, when we both know that you were taking care of me after the Natalya thing?"

His eyes flickered to each side, probably in search of an escape route, but he sighed, "Did you really want me to tell them about your ridiculous pajamas and me having to run to a twenty four hour gas station to get you ice cream?"

She glared at him despite the blush she could feel creeping in on her cheeks. His smile was infuriating, but she knew he was trying to throw her off, "That doesn't answer my question, Ambrose."

His shoulders remained stiff, his title over one of them, and his fingers drummed on the table. "I didn't lie." He saw her disbelieving look, "No, really. I just didn't say any details."

"You expect me to believe that, in your mind, curling up on your couch in your apartment, watching old movies, eating ice cream and drinking a lot more alcohol than I'd care to admit to cheer me up from Natalya was a party?"

His eyes locked with hers and it caused her to stop in her tracks. In a completely serious tone he answered her, "Yes, I do."

He had been an absolute doll after Money in the Bank. She had been a wreck after losing a ten-year friendship and he'd barely left her side. He'd actually sat through an entire movie with her without fidgeting. They'd ended up falling asleep on the couch at around four in the morning and while Dean may be a very comfy person to lie on, it had not been good for their sore backs.

He sighed and dropped the title off his shoulder into his lap, "Dude, it was a party. We are the party. And we both had a lot of laughs and got really drunk, so really, I only left some details out."

Becky rolled her eyes, "I can still outdrink you, Ambrose."

He smiled back at her, taking another bite of his sandwich, "I know. But I'm getting closer."


End file.
